Oatmeal
by ANIMELOVEDOLL
Summary: Don't be fooled by my sucky summary. Spongebob is on a mission. Crackfic. Rated for slightly graphic themes. :


**Crackfic. 'Nough said. Took a silent challenge from my sister to start this fic and finish it with diginity. I hope you pee your pants - just like I did - while writing this story. If you don't... your a snob. Amen.**

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SpongeBob was strolling down the street, being his awesome self of course, when he saw a shiny penny. Who cares about a shiny penny you may ask? Well, not Squidward I'll give you that. But who does he go running to? Certainly not our tentacled. NO!

Just kidding, that's exactly what he did. He ran all the way to Squidward's house and knocked on his door and waited. Then he knocked some more and waited some more. Well, eventually, his lack of attention span took over and he opened the door anyway. Breaking and entering? I think not. Just a concerned and friendly guy checking on one of his closest buds.

Of course, there was no lock. No one needs a lock in Bikini Bottom.

"Squidward! Oh, Squidward! Are you home?" He swayed on the door, to and fro. Still, no answer.

So he turned away and closed the door behind him, dejected as usual.

He felt sad and thought about beating himself with a hammer, but then he thought about Patrick, which if you notice has the only normal name in town, because hammers obviously remind him of Patrick. So, he hopped and skipped and sang all the way to his best friend's house, which was a whole ten feet away. He then decided that he should knock on his rock, somehow knowing that Patrick would be able to hear him under this rock. There was no answer, but the rock did magically open, in a magically magical magic display of magic. And there was a note. It read:

"_Dear SpongeBob, I went to get more big paper. I ran out of big paper. Don't worry; I'm just getting more big paper. That is all... and by that is all, I mean, this note is all I know how to write. Love, uhhh... Patrick."_

SpongeBob puzzled at the idea of Patrick going to get paper. But then he forgot about that because he saw something shiny in the corner of his eye. It was the penny that he had also forgotten about and then he puzzled over what he just forgot. He stood there for an hour trying to figure it out before he realized that when he stopped thinking about it, it would come to him... magically.

So he walked down the road and hummed an annoying song that, if heard by someone higher on the physiological totem pole, would be stuck in that someone's head for the remainder of their life. Never forgotten, just lingering for a time when it is most inappropriate.

So, he strolled down the street and in to town to see if he could find anyone he knew. And he looked down and his shoe was untied, so he stopped and he tied it. That was it. And then, he was on his way, trying not to crap his pants from how awesome he truly was.

There was a sign for Jellyfish Fields and he just had to go. There was no way of avoiding it. He was too excited for anything less. So when he finally got to that great open field of greatness, he realized that he had no net and he sat down and he vomited rainbows and farted sunshine. And he cried about doing this because he thought he was sick and then he realized that it was Thursday, so he was alright.

And then he cried some more and he thought about his grandmother.

And then he thought about his dad and he ate some oatmeal. He wasn't entirely sure where he got this oatmeal goodness, but he was eating it anyway, so that was pretty good.

He got up, dusted himself off and went on to the next thing he found interesting. A piece of gum it seemed was his next victim. But then he put it in his mouth, knowing fully well that a person had chewed that up and spit it out on the side walk for some hobo to find and num on for a little while. But he wasn't a hobo.

He chewed on it for a little while and spit it back out. It wasn't gum flavored at all. It was money flavored and he felt his mouth bleed as he realized he had obviously broken a tooth of a dime that had been in the gum. Maybe that was why that person spit it out.

Then a nursery maid walked by trailed by a ton of kids, probably out on a fieldtrip about a public restroom, and she pointed at him and got all of the kids' attention.

"This children, is why we are getting an education." Then she ushered them on to look at the next unfortunate person who did something wrong in public. Hopefully, it wouldn't be a nun. They have slappy rulers and fish slaps that only a woman of God could supply.

So, he sat down and cried about that, too.

And he was once again on his way, doing something. I think.

He strutted like a peacock and people laugh and asked him to perform at their kid's birthday party, but he had to turn them down. He already had his delectable, well-paying, wonderful job as a fry cook in the best place every man fish, woman fish, and child... guppy would ever know. Not a gas station bathroom, not a sewer, not a public drinking fountain. NO! Even better than that! The Crusty Crab! Almost makes him want to vomit up that oatmeal so that he could utterly enjoy a crabby patty. Ah bulimia.

But he didn't because it reminded him of his father, plus it was Thursday.

But then he stopped and thought about trying something different, like a hotdog. But that hope was squashed just like every dream he had ever had, ever because he was SpongeBob and he deserved to get put down by life, but not today, because today wasn't Monday. It was Thursday.

And suddenly he was at the Crusty Crab and Sandy was there and Patrick was there and Squidward was there and he spaced out. He thought about mass killings and radioactive bombs, not to mention kicking puppies and punching babies. And Patrick was there and Sandy was there and he was beating Squidward with the strength of a retarded person on a rampage, blacking out from all the stress he just took off of an old woman staring about him with a twitchy eye.

And then he was alright again. He came too and was drinking something that wasn't from the Crusty Crab. He wasn't even sure if he could drink it at all, but he sucked on his straw anyway and prayed that it wouldn't get lodged in his throat like last time, because then Patrick would have to get the pliers.

And he didn't like the pliers.

Still, even though it didn't come from the Crusty Crab, Mr. Crabs demanded that he pay for it anyway. Which made his eye twitch like the old woman he had imagined just a moment ago, but he smiled like he would love to give Mr. Crabs every last penny he had to his name and shelled out double what he would have paid for if given a coke from the Crusty Crab.

Then, he looked at Squidward and made him uncomfortable. He didn't know he was making him uncomfortable, but Squidward was very uncomfortable. Which made everyone else in the room tense, but then he smiled like the idiot he pretended to be and pounced on Squidward to give him a hug.

One day, Mr. Squidward. One day.

And he held on a little too long, making Squidward a little more uncomfortable than he already was.

"SpongeBob, get in the kitchen where you belong and leave me alone, woman."

"But Squidward, it's my day off."

"Well, GET~ OUT~!" And that scream vibrated off those old walls and broke the whole building. Then it exploded in to a raging inferno. But don't worry, they were under water, so it shouldn't be burning at all, but then it burnt and everyone made it out alright. Because it was magical.

And then everyone looked down and discovered that they had pistachio ice-cream all over their shoes. Except for Patrick and Mr. Crabs, which have not a shoe to spare. Patrick has no feet, but Mr. Crabs was just too cheap to go to a Dollar Store and purchase devices that might allow him to go about his day without pain from upturned nails and jagged pieces of glass. This is why we are getting an education, children.

Then, they realized that it wasn't ice-cream. It was just plankton, who had used a magical underwater lighter to display his hatred for the Crusty Crabs by committing arson in front of a preschool. Now, all the little guppies want to kill their neighbors' cat with the power of heat and light. Thank you Plankton. The whole town loves you.

So, they punched him, even though he was already dead, which is kind of overkill. But no cares because he's an indirect cat killer.

Plus, it was Thursday.

The End.

Moral of the story: Don't eat ABC gum while a nursery maid is watching.

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**Reveiw. Don't flame. I'll just roast marshmallows on your butthurt toasty buns. Thanks (0^0)**


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